An American Cemetery in France

Perfectly pristine and cared for.  We came across this American Cemetery in Draguignan, France.  The weather was not good this day.  It was slightly misting, but would not stop us from a quiet walk through an American Cemetery in France.  

"The site of the Rhone American Cemetery and Memorial in France was selected because of its historic location along the route of the U.S. Seventh Army's drive up the Rhone Valley. It was established on August 19, 1944 after the Seventh Army's surprise landing in southern France. 

On 12.5 acres at the foot of a hill clad with the characteristic cypresses, olive trees, and oleanders of southern France, rest 860 of our military dead, most of whom lost their lives in the liberation of southern France in August 1944. Their headstones are arranged in straight lines, divided into four plots, and grouped about an oval pool. At each end of the cemetery is a small garden. On the hillside overlooking the cemetery is the chapel with its wealth of decorative mosaic and large sculptured figures. Between the chapel and the burial area, a bronze relief map recalls military operations in the region. On the retaining wall of the terrace, 294 names of the missing are inscribed. Rosettes mark the names of those since recovered and identified." 

Not only Veteran's Day, but let us remember every day and never forget.

Paris

In our little apartment in Paris, we enjoyed our oysters on the half shell with a crisp bottle of white wine.

The above photos are of an absolutely beautiful restaurant in Paris, "Julien" on rue du Faubourg St-Dennis, just a short walk from our apartment.  The decor was so "old time Paris".  Besides that, we had a fantastic meal of salmon and a roasted chicken with mushroom sauce.  Enjoy the photos below.

The architecture in this area was so beautiful.  I had to take a picture of the arch.  See the lion on the bottom sticking out his tongue?  Don't we all feel like that once in while?

And then, of course, for some reason, most Americans want to go to the cemetery looking for a particular grave site.

We made the trek to Pere Lachaise cemetery and thanks to the kind efforts of a Parisian, he led us to several interesting monuments and then to Jim Morrison's resting place.  By far, the largest crowd this day in the cemetery was standing around this grave.  Understandably, they were all Americans, of many different ages.  

This is the monument to the artist Gericault (1791-1824).  It was quite beautiful and our French "guide" for our visit, had a strong connection to the artist.  When I told him I did not recognize the name, he asked me to study him when I had the chance.  He seemed quite proud of this Frenchman.

His most famous painting The Raft of the Medusa is engraved on the stone.  

Our gite' near Vichy, France

Massif Central lives in the heart of France. Though not many people pick this as a tourist destination, is has claimed its name to many famous products. It is the home of Michelin, Perrier, Opinel knives, Charroux's fine mustard made by crushing seeds with a stone mill, stone quarries, lots of cheese and even a lace school.


We were early in the travel season and we could see immediately that this region is not used to many tourists. Nonetheless, we made our way through this beautiful part of France and enjoyed it very much.

We found a gite' on the Internet and booked it through the owner who lives in England. You can go here to see more details on the home we rented for a week. The photo below shows the house. We rented the entire downstairs which will be in the photos.

This was the first television we had seen in over a week. Also during that time, we had no access to newspapers, so we were anxious to catch up on the world news. Luckily, we also had a satellite connected to TV from England which made things a lot easier for us. On a side note, it was fun watching "House" on French TV. I hope the French do not think that all American doctors are like him!

The galley kitchen worked, but we quickly found out that the Trout and I both could not be in the kitchen at the same time. When we come to Europe, we change our habits. We adjust quickly to the 6 hour time change, and our eating habits also change.

No longer do I have my typical bowl of cereal for breakfast. We either drive or walk, depending upon the distance, to the nearest Boulangerie. We buy a bagette for the day and a croissant (plain or chocolate).

I brew a pot of "Carte Noire" my favorite coffee that I have found in France, and we have our breakfast. Depending on what is available, we might have cold cuts and cheese with the bagette, or a wonderful jam or jelly. In Germany, we had a soft-boiled egg each morning.

We then start driving in the direction of the towns for the day. After visiting a town, a church or another attraction, the time is nearing 12 noon. Restaurants only serve lunch between noon and 2 p.m., so you must be watching the clock. We usually have picked the restaurant in advance through reading about it while at home. Our noon dinner usually takes two hours, so after that we start touring again.

It is pretty typical that we get back to our gite' around 5 p.m. The Trout should be commended because he does the travel planning. He finds us a place to stay that is central to where we want to tour and then plans the directions we want to go and still be able to find lunch somewhere and get back home before 6 p.m.

We then relax with a glass of wine and prepare our evening meal which is usually cold cuts, cheese, bread and a bottle of wine. We tend to eat a heavy meal at noon with just a simple glass of wine. French driving laws have no tolerance to driving under the influence. This way, we can eat our evening meal when we want to (before 8 pm.) eat lighter and still enjoy a bottle of wine with no concerns. Sometimes during the day we come upon a market where we can buy a special treat for the evening meal.

Out the window of our gite' we kept seeing these little glass houses with roofs. One evening we walked over to find out that we were looking at the roofs of enclosure over graves in a cemetery. We had never seen anything quite like this and decided it must be a regional tradition.